There are some eating establishments in central Indiana that are beloved for more than the food. As you read those words, perhaps a restaurant or two comes to mind, restaurants that deserve the musical refrain “where everybody knows your name.”
That is what many of us are missing during the pandemic, the experience of dining in places that seem to be extensions of home and family. And when economists speculate that many small businesses won’t recover, we say, “Please, not my favorite place.”
For more than 115 years, Shapiro’s Deli on the near southside of Indianapolis has been a favorite eating establishment for many. The food is legendary, as is the greeting “What will you have, hon?” from those serving behind the counter.
On Wednesdays or Thursdays for the past twenty years, Shapiro’s has become well known for another reason. The deli has, in fact, become known world-wide, for a group of men and women from diverse religious backgrounds who gather in friendship. The majority of those who attend are Muslims and Christians, but people of other faiths have joined the group over the years.
The “Shapiro Gang” is legendary wherever interfaith dialogue is occurring in the world. When popes have invited Muslims to the Vatican for interfaith meetings, they have often called upon members of Indianapolis’s “Shapiro gang.”
Most patrons who walk by the table where the Shapiro gang is seated don’t know of the group’s legendary status. There are no set topics for discussion; there is no leader, no public display of piety. The group sits in the main room, not hidden in the back. What is experienced at the table is quite simple though extraordinary—love for one another and mutual encouragement for each of us to do the will of God on a daily basis.
A senior member of the group tells the story of a man who passed their table one lunch hour and recognized one of them. “What’s this all about?” he asked. When members of the group shared that they were a gathering of men and women from different religions who get together once a week, the man pulled up a chair and said “Let’s get it on.” When members asked him what he meant, he replied that he assumed the group was engaged in a debate. He seemed to be disappointed when he learned that the goal of the group was friendship, not argument.
The last Thursday before the pandemic shut down businesses, I was present at Shapiro’s for another notable encounter. We were doing what we do every week, talking about whatever was on our minds, when a stranger stopped and interrupted our conversation. The words tumbled out of his mouth. “You being here gives me hope,” he said. He might have been referring to the interracial nature of the group, but we explained that we’re also a group of men and women from different faith traditions. “Incredible, just incredible,” he said, repeating again that our group offered him hope in what he described as “the mess we’re in.”
The man was clearly overcome, at times making me wonder if he was on the verge of tears. As the man turned to leave, one of the members invited him to join us next Thursday for lunch. Because of the pandemic, there was no next Thursday.
After a month of not meeting due to COVID-19, the Shapiro gang has begun meeting weekly, but online. The day I wrote this column, we had just met. It was wonderful to see each other, to once again be together as Muslims and Christians. At the close of our online meeting, the founding member of the group said, “I hope Shapiro’s is doing OK. We need to get back there.”
I imagine that thousands of restaurant owners have been praying that their businesses will survive. I wonder how many owners know that there are patrons who are praying for them and their businesses too. For a favorite restaurant is more than a place where the food is excellent. A favorite restaurant can become a place where a bit of the world’s brokenness is healed.
David Carlson of Franklin is a professor of philosophy and religion. Send comments to [email protected].
